Mind Games
by Alix the Alien Cyborg
Summary: It's Lithuania's birthday, Poland shows up drunk, and we discover that England, France and America are far more perverted than we ever knew. A PolLiet one-shot.


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;_;

Sick of writing author's notes.  
>I went through and added author's notes to all my finished fics…<br>Um, right! Organized stuff! Non-rambleness!

**Fandom: **Axis Powers Hetalia**  
>Author: <strong>Alix the Alien Cyborg**  
>Rating: <strong>T**  
>Pairings:<strong> PolLiet  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Yaoi, so please don't flame if you don't like it, swearing, drunkenness, alcohol-induced OOCness on Poland's part, my bad writing-induced OOCness on Lithuania's part, uh…I think that's it?

I don't own Hetalia. If I did, then *insert epic thing I'd be doing here*

This was one of the first fics I wrote for this fandom, so I hope it doesn't suck too badly, although it isn't the same quality as (I hope) my other fics are. It kinda switches between depressing and humor at random times, so I don't even know what to categorize it as.

Also, crappy title is crappy.

**Mind Games**

Lithuania stared down into his drink, eyes boring into the bitter liquid. Waves of dark red lapped at the cool surface of the glass. He knew Russia would be furious when he found out that the Baltic state had used the special wine and one of the nicer glasses, but he didn't care. He had a right to it-after all, it _was_ his birthday today. Not that anyone cared...or even noticed. Usually, Lithuania would awake to find a present each from Russia, Latvia and Estonia on his night stand, and they'd wish him a happy birthday once he got up. However, they out were out on a business trip, and it left him feeling quite lonely. Latvia and Estonia were his only friends, after all.

Well, "only" friends wasn't quite right.

There was Poland.

The two were very close and identified as each other's best friends, but lately Lithuania had been feeling strange whenever the other nation was around. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but he was smart enough to know not to ask France about it, that was for sure.

Every year, Poland would visit Lithuania on his birthday. He had called today and said he'd be there by two. That was at one. Lithuania, hearing the sleep-bleariness in his voice, took "two" to mean three, three thirty, maybe even four. Poland took _hours_ to shower and get dressed. And of course, you couldn't forget the primping. The little blonde spent nearly as much time on his appearance as France did.

So when Poland didn't show up at two, Lithuania didn't worry (for once). They had plenty of time. But when four came and went, he started to get bothered. Five, and he picked up the phone.

Poland has a really obnoxious voicemail, Lithuania decided after hanging up for the eighth time in three hours. He'd left three messages, and would have left many more, but didn't want to be annoying.

_Why not? _asked a small voice in his head. _You never cared how annoying you were before._

"Just shut up," Lithuania mumbled. "I don't want to think about that right now. I'm his best friend. I shouldn't feel...like this. Especially when he doesn't love me back." Lithuania closed his eyes, and soon a tear trickled down his cheek. "And don't you dare try to tell me he does, brain. He is now…" he checked his watch, "six hours, thirty-two minutes and forty-seven seconds late. He won't answer my calls, and he probably didn't even get me a gift." Liet dropped his head into his hands. "Even if he showed up now, I wouldn't want to speak to him. I think I'm heart broken…"

The door bell rang. The...ah, dulcet notes of the Russian anthem blasted through the house, loud enough for anyone to hear.

Lithuania started. The only person he was expecting today was Poland. Even if Russia, Estonia and Latvia were to come home early (and Lithuania fervently hoped not, as the house was in shambles) they would have no reason to ring the bell.

Lithuania stood slowly and made his way to the door. Pulling it open, he found himself face to face with someone that he wasn't yet sure if he wanted to see or not.

Poland.

"Heyyyyyy, duuuuddeeee...Wazzup?" One look, and Lithuania could see that Poland was drunk as all hell. The blonde stumbled across the threshold and wandered into the kitchen. Lithuania followed, closing the door behind him.

"Pol...why are you here?" Lithuania asked hesitantly. Poland blinked.

"Don't you remember, dude? It's your birthday! I like, totally called you up! I told you I was coming! Heh heh heh, _coming_..." Lithuania winced, trying to ignore the innuendo. Instead, he followed the "logical thought" part of his brain, which told him to make some coffee. Lithuania was amazed that Poland was this drunk and yet had made his way all the way to Liet's house. That took serious skill.

"Poland, that was nearly seven hours ago." Poland just waved his hand lazily, flipping back a strand of pretty blonde hair. Lithuania's eyes followed it with an unnoticed sigh of longing.

"Aw, we can still have some fun." Poland slurred. His eyes flitted up and down Lithuania's body. "Hey…you're, like, kinda hot!" Poland cried, suddenly sitting a little more upright. Liet froze in shock, the coffee he'd been pouring spilling over the edge of the cup. Poland gave a cocky little grin and rose to stand beside Lithuania, holding on to the counter to keep himself upright. The overly-effeminate boy was showing a rare moment of courage-which meant he was really, really drunk. "I like, totally like that." He murmured, giving an appreciative whistle (who was this and where did Poland go?) "I should have figured it out sooner," Poland whispered, catching Lithuania's face in his hands and swooping down to meet their lips. Liet was still frozen, but Poland didn't seem to mind as he worked their mouths together.

The brunette's mental facilities kicked back in after a second or two, and he began to panic. _What do I do? _He wailed inwardly. _I want this. I want Poland. But I don't want him drunk. I don't want a one night stand-I want a relationship. There's no way a relationship could come out of this. _Another little voice answered him back-which was kind of strange, if you thought about it. It sort of reminded him of America, in a way.

_But who cares? For once in your life, just go with it, dude!_

_But I can't! _Lithuania's thoughts were cut short by the sensation of something entirely different-Poland's tongue entering the equation. Liet gasped, which only gave the blonde more access. After a few moments of this, Poland picked Lithuania up and carried him to the couch as Liet continued his mental war.

"Wait, wait, wait, Poland…" the brunette managed, trying not to bite Poland as he spoke. The blonde pulled away, and Lithuania realized that he was laying on the couch, being straddled. _When did we go from the kitchen to the living room?_

"Liet…" Poland wailed. "Why'd you pull awayyyy?" He whined. Lithuania swallowed nervously.

"I'm just...not sure about this." Poland sighed.

"So you like, don't want me? Dude, that's like, _so_ not cool. Come on, Liet, you know you want me." Lithuania closed his eyes. Whether or not he wanted Poland was beside the point.

_Ah, but you just admitted you want him, mon ché. We both know you love him, and here he is, offering himself. So, I do not see an issue._ This little voice sounded creepily like France. Suspicious, if you asked Liet, however, he had a few other things on his mind at that moment.

_It's just...tomorrow morning, what'll happen then?_

_My dear, if you truly love him and he loves you, then only good things can come of tonight._

"Liet, hurry up and make a decision already…" Poland began peppering kisses along Lithuania's collarbone. Liet opened his eyes (ignoring the...British? voice in his head muttering something about French perverts) only to be greeted with…

Poland giving him those puppy-dog eyes that he could never resist, and Lithuania's head pounded and the world spun from the glasses of wine he'd had earlier and who effing cared if Poland was drunk as all hell? If he wanted to mess around right there on Russia's couch, then who was Lithuania to complain, when he'd wanted this for so long?

"...Poland?"

"Yeah?"

"Screw me on this damn couch."

Poland didn't need telling twice.

/

When Lithuania awoke, all he could remember of what happened after those words was a blur. Blurred words, slurred murmurs, and drunk promises whispered in ears. A blurred time of wandering hands and gasped exclamations, and especially the blurred lines between right and wrong, pleasure and pain, friend and lover.

Or maybe that was just Liet's romance-novel-loving-mind over-dramatizing things.

Lithuania made his way upstairs, finding a pair of robes. He pulled one on and left the other beside a sleeping Poland on the couch. The house was a complete and total wreck. Liet hoped that Russia and the other Baltics weren't coming home for another couple of days, because he really needed to clean.

He was just beginning breakfast when Poland awoke. Liet knew instantly by the long string of curses that flew from the living room. He grabbed a few cups of coffee and headed to greet the little blonde. Poland's bright green eyes locked on Liet's hazel. "Fuck." He muttered. He buried his head under the blanket that Russia kept on the back of the couch. "This is like, _so _not cool. Seventeen magazine totally just said that having a drunken one-night stand with your best friend is, like, the least cool thing you can do!" Liet was an expert at decoding Poland's valley-girl speak and detected the panic lacing his friend's voice in an instant, knowing full well that it wasn't because of something Seventeen magazine said or any shit like that. He set down the coffee on the table and simultaneously quashed the heartbreak that surged up through him at Poland's actions.

"Shhh, it's okay, Pol. Don't cry, oh, god, don't cry…" Liet began stroking his friend's soft hair as tears tracked down Poland's face.

"You don't understand! I've ruined everything." Lithuania told himself to breathe, because otherwise he'd end up suffocating. _I won't get my hopes up over Poland._ Liet needed to get over the blond and move on already, dammit! _I let myself have last night. That's over, and it's high time I set myself on the road to recovery._

"But there's one thing I _totally _don't understand." The voice from underneath the blanket mumbled. Liet's ears perked up (metaphorically) and he pulled himself from his endless musings. "I mean, I was smashed. And I can, like, be rather forceful, I know, when I'm drunk and want something. But you can always tell me no when I get a half brained idea and this really wasn't that different from the rest of them. And unless you were drunk too-which doesn't make sense, because you don't like to drink, and you acted fairly sober...what I'm trying and failing to say is, why did you let me?"

_Ah, the big confession scene! I think I might faint! _Lithuania's Mind-France (or so he'd dubbed the annoying voice) proclaimed.

_Shut up, you'll ruin it, guys! _Mind-America again. Liet was getting a bad feeling here. _It's almost as though-_

_I don't even want to be here! You bloody gits dragged me! Japan's inventions were not intended to be used for these purposes, and any minute now he's going to come home! _Well, that settled it.

_Oh good God, France, America and England broke into my head! _Liet whimpered.

Noting that Poland was still waiting for a response, he decided to follow up on that train of thought later.

"Poland...the thing is…" Liet closed his eyes. Could he even do this? He didn't think so. What if Poland didn't-_Oh, dear Lord. Liet! Just tell him, for God's sake. I don't even want to be here, but as long as I am, you better listen up and take this advice. If you don't try, you'll never know. Also, this is like watching a really long, really crappy soap opera, so please, just do something!_

_I hate to agree with L'Angleterre, but he is...ahem…right._

_Yeah, Liet, just go for it! I'm sure he likes you back!_

Liet wasn't sure that he trusted France or England (_hey!_) but America's opinion certainly had to count for something. Opening his eyes, Liet took a deep breath. "Poland…I didn't stop you last night because...because I care about you. More than I should. A lot more than I should, in fact, I...I think I love you. Please don't hate me, Poland, I'm sorry. So, so, sorry." Poland, whose head had crept out of the blankets, had a shocked expression. Liet hands clutched at the coffee he'd grabbed, and for the third time in two days, he felt his heart break. He'd failed. Liet was sure of it. Three very distinctive "Awww"s echoed through his brain, but his attention wasn't on that. It was on Poland. Poland was all he could see, all he could feel. All he could love.

Liet's eyelids fluttered shut, eyelashes brushing his cheeks. Tears welled up in the back of his eyes. His brain registered movement, but he didn't care. _It's probably just Poland leaving._ Liet refused to open his eyes and watch Poland walk out the door in the hatred and disgust he surely felt. The tears had quickly spilled over his cheeks, and now France was quietly murmuring reassurance in his metaphorical ear, but the brown-haired nation blocked it out.

The movements were getting closer, more and more air whooshing around Liet's face. Liet, hardly daring to breath, couldn't take the suspense anymore-he opened his eyes.

And there was Poland, millimeters from his face, cheeks flushed slightly. A moment later, and those beautiful, dark red lips were pressed gently against Lithuania's pale chapped pink. Liet gasped, heart pounding, and then the warmth was gone and Lithuania's unresponsive mouth was once more lonely. Poland's eyes flitted open; they were positively glowing with happiness. Lithuania…well, he just looked confused.

"But...I thought you would hate me!" Poland rolled his eyes.

"If I hated you, would I have kissed you? You're like, such an idiot sometimes, Liet." Lithuania blinked once, twice. Then again. And maybe one more time.

"_What?_" Poland sighed, carding a hand through his hair in an obvious _look what I have to deal with! _gesture, though there was no one around to be speaking to.

"Honestly! You're like, _so _dense. I really I have no idea why I love you. Let me put it this way-yesterday was your birthday. I was like, rather depressed, 'cause I thought you'd never like me back, so I got all drunk to make up for it. Then I had the, like, absolutely _brilliant _idea to drop by here! And, like, since I've loved you for about a few _decades_, and you, apparently, liked me too, it was inevitable that we'd end up sleeping together!" Poland looked considerably less depressed than he had minutes earlier. _It was probably the coffee, _Mind-America mused, but Liet was more focused on the fact that Poland even knew the word inevitable.

"You love...me. You...love me. You love me!" Liet cried and, knowing he was behaving rather unusually but strangely not minding, threw himself into Poland's arms. The two lay there, laughing, so elated to finally have those weighty secrets off their chests. _Ah, mon amis, it is so nice to see a happy ending for once. I really am not sure if what happened with Spain and Romano could be considered happy...perhaps Romano doesn't like zebras? And Prussia was almost _too _happy to have me in his head...until we mentioned Austria, that is…_

The sound of a particular Frenchman's dreamy voice cut through Lithuania's hazy happiness. A thought punctuated the fog..._wait. You three could hear my thoughts and stuff that I heard and saw last night, right? And of course, you're still there now. Does that mean you three...last night...with Poland…_

Dead silence. At least, in his mind.

Lithuania stood up so fast that Poland fell off the couch.

"What's up? Where're you going?" He asked.

"No time to explain, just grab a weapon and follow me!" Liet huffed. The sound of an American, an Englishman, and a Frenchman letting out uncharacteristic whimpers of fear came through the link. There was a sharp click! noise, and total quiet. _Well, that doesn't explain anything._

And so it was that a very angry Baltic and his boyfriend burst into Japan's house screaming bloody murder and wielding a pair of very expensive bottles of wine at three in the morning.

Needless to say, Russia was not very happy.


End file.
